Four years ago I wrote an essay about finding home.
I was a 17-year-old high school senior who had known constant change, having lived in six different countries and having moved seven different times. But I always had my two brothers and my parents with me, and I learned that wherever I went, I would find people whom I would come to call my best friends.
In that essay I wrote that my definition of home was not a physical place. Home was the feeling I got when I was surrounded by the people I cared about most, and the comfort of knowing that I didn't have to be anyone but myself to be loved.
When I arrived at Bowdoin, I didn't know what to expect.
I had never spent a significant amount of time in Maine, and I certainly had never experienced anything close to a Maine winter during my time living in the Bahamas and Barbados.
Flash-forward three years and I'm still not the biggest fan of temperatures below freezing, or navigating a safe route through ice, snow and slush, but over the past four years this state and this school have unquestionably become my home.
When I woke up on Monday and prepared for my first day of the new semester, I realized that this was my last first day of classes, at least until grad school. It's a strange feeling knowing that this time next year, I won't be preparing for classes after an almost-too-long winter break.
The anticipation, excitement, and nervous energy I've always associated with beginning a new semester will probably stay with me at each new beginning in life—hopefully that includes my first job sometime in the near future—but I'll never be able to replicate the experience of moving into a new dorm or eating that first meal of the semester at Thorne or Moulton.
Still, the experiences we've shared at Bowdoin will surely have a lasting impact on us long after we move on to life beyond Bowdoin's snow- covered campus and Brunswick's charming simplicity.
The friendships we have made here will endure, even if time and distance limit our opportunities to be together.
I'll never forget the first meal the Class of 2012 shared at Thorne, when our class banner hung on the far left side of the wall overlooking the dining hall. Come June, that banner will be lowered down and put in some warehouse, only to be brought out when our class returns for reunions. Thinking about this makes me sad, but the good news is that our college careers are not over. We have one more semester, and many more experiences to share.
I don't know where my list of "50 things to do before I graduate" went, or even what was on it, but I do know that I will graduate having checked off the most important item: leave knowing that I have another place to call home.
As unlikely as it was for me to end up in Maine four years ago given my Caribbean roots, I can't imagine attending college anywhere else.
And though this semester marks the end of our time at Bowdoin, our final months will also include some of our best memories.
Craig Hardt is a Member of the Class of 2012.